Braving The Storm
by Peahenny
Summary: "You look like a nice boy." Also known as the AU where Georgie lives and where fans can have a more sweet and gentle Pennywise.
1. Chapter 1

This has been a year overdue from making its way from my AO3, but this is my attempt at the AU we've all secretly wanted- of a boy who lived and befriended a strange but silly clown monster...with some future plot twists, as is Derry tradition.

Also to give credit where it is due: the first section is a mix of actual dialogues from the book and recent movie, rewritten in my own words and style. I just thought it was an iconic scene that not including it in an alternate-universe would be strange.

* * *

"Hi, Georgie."

Georgie blinked and squinted into the darkness. He could hardly put to pieces what he was seeing; it was like something from a silly joke he heard on the playground, or a gag from one of those funny movies where magic was natural and animals could talk. If he had been many years older, he still would not have believed what he saw in the darkness of that drainpipe. But he wasn't older. He was only six.

There was a clown in the drain, staring back at him. The light was too dim to make everything out, but it was plentiful enough for Georgie to take in the shapes and colors. It was so obviously a clown, just like the ones he had seen on TV or saw on posters for the circus. In fact, it looked like a cross between Ronald McDonald and those stuffy old rich folks in the french fairy tale his teacher had been reading to him at school. The face of the clown in the storm drain had the same rich fire in puffs that reminded Georgie of Bozo, with the same white face that had crisp red markings along his lips and nose that looked so similar to Ronald. But the two red streaks that crossed over the clown's eyes and trickled down to his ruby lips made him look like he had been crying blood from his place in the sewers, and for that Georgie couldn't find fault. If he was stuck down there, he too would have felt miserable. Minus the blood.

Georgie was almost expecting a string of balloons or a party favor to go along with the clown's ensemble, but he did see his paper boat sitting in the clown's hand, almost out of sight under the water's torrent.

"You look like a nice boy. I bet you have a lot of friends." The clown purred. Georgie blinked at him, swallowing dryly.

"Three, but my brother's my best."

He watched droplets of water lingering on the lurker's ivory chin. One quivered stubbornly on the cusp of his bottom lip.

"Where is he?" The clown asked sweetly.

Georgie frowned, remembering the loneliness he felt in leaving his brother alone in bed with pneumonia. Bill would have loved to be here, sailing the boat he helped make. "In bed. Sick." He mumbled tensely. He watched the clown hum for a moment, with his eyes twinkling a moment later. Something about his words sparked promise in the stranger.

"I bet I could cheer him up! And give him a balloon."

It was a sweet offer, but Georgie didn't know if Bill honestly would want one. Bill was much older, and only young kids seemed to enjoy balloons more. He decided not to answer.

"Want your boat back, Georgie?" The clown persisted, smiling. It looked almost like a pout, aided by large puppy blue eyes.

Georgie smiled back. He just couldn't stop himself- it was the sort of warm smile that warranted another.

"I sure do!"

The clown giggled, flashing a pair of long buck teeth. "He sure does! That's sweet. Very sweet!...and how about a balloon for your troubles?"

The little boy in the yellow raincoat eagerly reached his hand out, but paused. Reluctantly, he pulled his hand back while adjusting uncomfortably in his hunch on the sopping pavement.

"My dad told me I'm not supposed to take stuff from strangers."

The clown's gaze wandered as he nodded, parroting the sentence under his breath. Then, his smile snapped back along with his gaze. "How very wise of him." His eyes remained in their soft baby blue state, reminding Georgie of his mother's as well as Bill's. It was a very comforting color, he thought. The clown spoke up again, inching a bit closer to the edge.

"Well, allow me to introduce myself." He cooed. "I'm Pennywise, the Dancing Clown!" He shook as if in a shiver at the exaggerated word, sounding off a small series of jingle bells hidden somewhere on his outfit that prompted a soft giggle from the little boy. "Pennywise, meet Georgie," He cupped a white gloved hand to his chest, and extended it. "Georgie...meet Pennywise. And now we know each other, yes?"

Georgie smiled, leaning in too in order to peer into the darkness. "How did you get into the sewer?"

"Storm just blew me awaaaaaay," Pennywise whimpered, looking around at the gushes of chilled water smacking the sides and mouth of the drain, "Blew the whole circus away…" He looked to Georgie again, smile widening even more hopefully. "Can you smell the circus, Georgie?" He pressed.

Georgie blinked, and leaned in again. He took a big whiff of the stormy air, but he didn't smell any of the guck and yuck of the sewers...he smelled again, and he could pick it up! He smelled it! Crisp roasted peanuts, with the light sting of vinegar. He could find the traces of warm funnel cakes and sugary candy, of the tang to lemonade and even that musky footpath smell of wet straw and animal dung...his nose wrinkled once reality started wafting back, and the clown's eyes widened. Georgie could smell the rotten earth of the pipes and trash no doubt below the man's feet.

"You bet I can smell it." The child replied earnestly while wrinkling his nose.

"There's peanuts...and cotton candy." Pennywise cooed, confirming it all. Georgie thought it was strange, but figured the clown just wanted to make more conversation. And so it seemed, as Pennywise the Dancing Clown continued with the list. "Hot dogs…" Georgie swore he could hear the faint chiming of circus music down in the pits of the pipes.

"Aaaaaaand?" Pennywise's voice knocked him out of his thought.

Georgie pouted for a moment, not happy at smelling the wet sludge aroma again but did it anyway to not upset the not-stranger.

"...Popcorn?"

"Popcorn!" Pennywise bounced once, delighted. "Is that your favorite?"

The child beamed. It sure was. "Uh huh!"

The clown couldn't contain his excited giggling. His next words bled into it.

"Mine too! Because they pop!" He stopped again to whine happily under his breath. Keeping his eyes on Georgie, he started to bounce lightly again with each following "pop!" he made after. Georgie started to giggle again, returning the noises as he and the clown shared the moment together. Once the laughter died, Pennywise looked pleased.

"Want your boat, Georgie?"

Oh yeah, he had almost forgotten.

Georgie watched the toy itself rise up from the depths, held in a large white glove that reminded him of the ones that his favorite cartoon characters wore. There was more to the clown's suit that he could see now, and Georgie was astounded that so many frills and lace were not sopping wet by the rain. "Yeah." He replied simply.

"And a balloon?" Pennywise's eyes twinkled again. He was really milking the exchange, but his audience didn't seem to mind. "I have them in many colors, but red is my favorite…"

"Do they float?" Georgie asked innocently. He still didn't see any.

"Why yes, they do!"

He thought for a moment, looking between the clown's hopeful face and the boat sitting so tantalizingly on upon his palm. They were no longer strangers (according to the man, and Georgie had always been taught to respect the wisdom of his elders), but it still didn't feel right just reaching in to snatch what he wanted out of another's hand. The fact that there was a random clown standing in a flooding storm drain also was raising questions. But Pennywise the Dancing Clown looked so happy to have some company, so why would he be rude in saying no? This wasn't like the horrid beast he envisioned in the basement back home, which lurked among nightmares and threatened to crunch his bones. Georgie mulled it over for a moment, before he reached out.

The clown's eyes widened, gleeful.

* * *

The house was quiet by the time he returned.

Georgie leaned all his weight upon the door frame after nudging the door open, peering inside at the entryway to their house. The lamps in the parlor were dimmed, meaning that his mother had finished her playing at the family piano sometime after he had ran out. The little boy swallowed heavily and took a moment to kick his way out of his wet galoshes; they remained outside on the porch. He glanced back to beckon, but pouted in confusion upon seeing the only company he had on the welcome mat was himself.

He stepped back onto the front porch, glancing around the drenched yard and the street beyond it. Quickly remembering the door was still open, Georgie reluctantly pulled away to rush inside. Dad would kill him for letting the heat out.

He wrestled out of his slicker after dutifully locking the door, keeping his eyes peeled again for anything out of the ordinary. The house was still the same as the way it been that morning, gloomy from the storm but no less comforting. Georgie toed over to the staircase to peek up to the top, finding no signs of open doors or lingering lights. It seemed that the house itself had settled for a nap and had taken all of his family hostage with it. On a day like this, Georgie found that he didn't mind that one bit.

A wave of relief ran through his nerves, and he smiled as he skipped noisily on the wooden floor all the way to his room. He jumped onto his bed with the paper boat in toy, giggling and rolling onto his back to really take the time to observe it under the glow of his bedside lamp.

Bill had really did a fine job on creating the boat. His folding lines were almost perfect, and Georgie envied the clean penmanship of the paper vessel's maiden name. He hoped one day to have as nice a handwriting as Bill's, or even his mother's elegant swoops. His fingers carefully tapped along the waxy finish, amazed that despite the battering from the storm, his little sailboat had held up perfectly.

Georgie regarded his toy boat for a few more moments, and placed it atop his heart while he lay in his comfy bed and listened to the roar of the storm outside. He hoped that the clown was able to get dry. He couldn't imagine how terrible it was to stand in grey water, dead leaves and Derry pee while waiting for pleasant company to show up. The child frowned, tapping his fingers against the ridges of his boat as he thought.

By the time he returned from the kitchen, Georgie had worn himself out. But as he looked down at the serving tray he carried in his small hands, he couldn't have been more proud of himself.

The main course was the leftover pancakes his mother had made that morning, stacked clumsily atop one another and drenched in syrup and chocolate pieces. He had tried his hand at creating a silly clown face out of chopped strawberries and the last of the sugary whipping cream, watching his handiwork jiggling as he tried to quietly walk without setting anything off kilter on the plate. A big glass of milk sat next to it, stirred quickly to produce a bubbly chocolate concoction which spilled periodically onto the towelette it sat upon. Georgie sank into a slow kneel just before the door so he could place the tray upon the muffling carpet. His hands carefully rotated the knob and he strained himself so hard in opening the door slowly that his arms ached in the end. He pawed loose bangs out of his face while peering outside into the maelstrom on Witcham street.

The tray was left outside on the welcome mat.

Georgie stood by the entryway window for a few minutes after, watching for any signs of white and red. His frown grew heavier as he began to pull connections between a lost clown and a stray cat; his eyes started to sting as the saddening thought of being alone and soaked started to tug at his small heart.

He thought and pondered while watching the terrible weather, eventually coming to a mental debate with himself on whether or not he should run up and check in on his brother. Bill was smart and always knew what to do. Georgie trusted him completely. But...Bill was also still very much sick, and his parents would scold him for disturbing his siblings. Then again, they would also be angry if they found out he was leaving food for any strays or maybe a wandering bum, so Georgie ultimately swallowed down his anxiousness and reluctantly walked back to his room.

The rest of the evening was spent beneath the covers with his favorite books, but Georgie dedicated more time to staring at the circus print along his wallpaper than at the colorful pictures in his stories. He looked between the happy dancing animals and the goofy clowns, thinking back once again to Pennywise. It wasn't fair.

That storm wasn't fair, blowing the whole circus away.

When sleep finally took him away too, Georgie found it to be restless and uncomfortable. The barking of the wind outside brought in heavy crashes of branches against the house, but when the rage of nature settled for a few small hours did he finally succumb to something of a peaceful rest. He dreamed of talking bears and a town filled with people who only spoke backwards, but none of that was as surreal as the frequent and persistent chiming that seemed to resonate from anywhere and everywhere at once. It kept growing louder the longer he dreamed, until the boy become so agitated by the distracting noise that he groggily blinked awake and stared at the closet across his bed.

Something blurry and grey was sitting in front of it.

A spell of fright burned through him, jerking him fully awake as he sat upright and flung his sheets one way along with his favorite stuffed dog in the other direction. Georgie furiously rubbed at his face, blinking again as the shape became more crisp before his very eyes.

"You made it!" he almost squealed, to which he clasped his hands over his mouth as Pennywise grinned. The clown was sitting with his legs crossed right in front of the dresser, somehow completely dry despite the elements outside. In his lap was the tray that had been offered to him, as he was gobbling down the drippy pancakes with a gusto that matched Georgie's whenever his favorite breakfast was served.

"You forgot your balloon." His guest chimed, wagging his elbow like a chicken wing to showcase the red sphere tied to it. Georgie watched it bounce, but he couldn't contain his excitement much longer. The little boy hopped off of his bed and sprinted over, almost tumbling right into the visitor as he stood up on his toes to fully wrap his arms around the clown's neck. Pennywise really did smell like the circus, and he was as warm as the fiery color of his hair. The clown was about to crack a joke about the spilled pancake now squashed between them, but he instead decided it was much more fun to loop his own large arms around the fellow not-stranger while snorting out a light cackle.

He suddenly wasn't so angry at the weather anymore.


	2. Chapter 2

After seeing Chapter 2, I figured it was time to update.

Admittedly I binge-wrote this in a fury of excitement, so I hope it turned out coherently. This is actually a two-parter chapter. It wouldn't be doing the lore any justice to not have some snags.

* * *

It wouldn't be for another week before the rains would cease over Derry. Georgie had been in better spirits ever since Bill had gotten better, though his true excitement came from the new friend he had made by the sewer grate.

Bill hadn't believed him when he was regaled one morning over breakfast upstairs, in which both boys sat with legs crossed on top of Bill's bed while they both dipped into matching bowls of heavy oatmeal. It had been one of those special occasions where their mother hadn't demanded meals at the table, so it was a treat for the youngest of the Denbroughs to enjoy some quiet time with his childhood idol now that things were looking brighter. With his small fist clenching his spoon with ferocious might, Georgie stubbornly scooped out the chopped almonds lingering in the mash and pushed them off to the side of his bowl. Bill dutifully ate, silent but with a concerned gaze.

"Georgie…" He started, after a heavy gulp, "You're p-pulling me." He frowned at his brother, who paused and looked at him with a pouting face. "There are no clowns in the...the s-s...sewer."

He could have accepted it; he had been a young boy once too. He remembered the days when he had been around Georgie's age, convinced that his old stuffed animals could talk and that lies like Santa Claus were real. He could have just nodded his head and humored his brother's wild tales and be done with it, but something about Georgie's grand adventure with the boat had stirred up something wrong and defensive within him. He saw it too, that wounded hurt in the little boy's eyes as if he had just set down his bowl and struck him right across the cheek. Georgie looked down at his breakfast, frowning at the raisins and the yucky almonds.

"It's true, Billy…" He quietly insisted.

"No it isn't." Bill defended firmly. "Sewers don't smell like p-peanuts." He wanted to say more but just didn't have the heart to. Their father had already ran Georgie and him through the wringer in stranger safety: don't talk to strangers, don't accept things from strangers...he felt his stomach squirming itself into knots at the idea of the boat he and Georgie made together being tossed into the hands of a grown man dressed as a clown. But mostly, he was ashamed at himself for playing hooky and sending his sibling into potential doom. Georgie must have seen the doubt in his gaze, for the little boy scooted closer and regarded him, long and hard.

"He really liked your boat." He said stiffly. He bit his lip as he watched his brother blink at him. Bill took a large bite from his spoon as his brows knit hard above his eyes. Georgie tilted his head as his own face settled into one of suspicion. "He said he could have cheered you up with a balloon-"

"Georgie. S...st..stop it." Bill said with closed eyes. He was holding his bowl close to his lips and seemed to be blowing into it with every quiet exhale he took. Images of perverts and serial killers in clown paint danced behind his eyelids. There were rumors in town that the occasional crime scene came from drifters or runaways going missing weeks before being found all mangled in the Barrens, stinking up the sewers where puffs of rot wafted out on hot summer days when the world was bright and peaceful. Derry was a safe place...at least, that was how Bill always remembered it. When he opened his eyes, he saw Georgie's face all picturesque on a milk carton. The youngest Denbrough was watching him with glassy eyes and a heavy pout. Bill frowned at him, chewing on his lip while reaching forward to gently pet the soft blonde bangs from his brother's face.

"I know you're mad that I c-couldn't play. I'm sorry." He spoke softly, hoping his truth shone through. He hoped this wild tale was just a little revenge plot to rile him up and get him out of bed. Georgie gave him a weird look but he started to smile; it loosened the knots in Bill's stomach. He listened to that harmonic string of giggles as he set his breakfast off to the side and hugged his brother. He smiled too, but the uncertainty was still there.

He didn't let Georgie play alone today. After their bowls were (almost) picked clean and returned to their mother, the two boys set about with getting dressed. Bill scrutinized the paper boat which had returned to his desk, mostly intact despite the thin layer of grime that suggested truth to its wayward voyage. While he tugged at the zipper on his jacket, he stepped closer and hesitantly leaned down. His nose scrunched at the pungent fumes that stabbed through his nostrils. Bill winced and shook his head, shoving the damned thing into his wastebasket before he left his room with his hands stuffed in his pockets. His eyes burned holes through the hallway carpet as he quietly walked to his brother's room and paused at the door. The circus wallpaper suddenly felt ominous and foreboding, though a hopeful thought passed through his mind that maybe Georgie's mind went wild with borrowing from his favorite things.

His brother was on his hands and knees, nearly stuffing himself under his bed as he batted a hand around to try and find something. It brought Bill to his own knees as he watched, curious.

"What are you doing?" He asked.

Georgie ceased for a moment, turning to where the shines of his eyes glinted out at his brother.

"Oh, nothing…" He watched his brother settling down to peer under with him, looking confused at all the normal and boring boxes stowed underneath. Bill looked at him again, curious, before pulling himself back up onto his feet.

"Well...d-d-don't take t-too long." Bill warned before leaving. His stutter was bad today, and it was always a sign to Georgie that Bill was uneasy. He sighed and scooted out, sitting on his shins while crossing his arms. He looked around the room to make sure nobody was watching before he leaned heavily onto his side and glared at the dark space.

"How come you didn't come out?"

There was an uncomfortable silence that welcomed him, and it was one he didn't want to stay in much longer. Georgie whined softly and got back on his feet, looking back at his bed when he reached the doorway.

The sky was still stuck in overcast when he joined his brother outside, but there was a considerable shift in warmth. He had to pause to let it kiss his cheeks and hug his chest from inside of his raincoat, but Georgie didn't linger on the porch for long. He carefully skipped down the steps and caught up to Bill in the driveway, giving him a big hug from behind. He listened to the wheeze exhaling the older Denbrough's chest, but Bill's soft laugh always made him smile big. Bill was so cool.

The boys walked down Whitcham street, being mindful of the slick puddles and barricades that still littered the slope. Georgie kept his eyes peeled for the grate in which he exchanged words with Pennywise, but noticed when he looked back that Bill was keeping his gaze ahead. That was fine by him; he could keep eyes out for any balloons.

Pennywise promised that he could give a balloon to Bill to help him get better, and balloons always made Georgie smile. It was a foolproof idea, really. He had a small hop to his step at the thought, of how he knew Billy would eat his words when he met the clown and realized that his little brother had been right all along. Then all three of them could splash in the puddles and search for the earthworms that got washed away from their burrows during the torrents of rain. They could laugh and dance and maybe even go out for ice cream down by the park, and that would have been the perfect day for George Denbrough. He was smiling from ear to ear as he plotted, glancing up at his big brother to see if his tone had changed.

Bill's eyes had gone from sharp to distance, for he was walking while lost in thought. Thoughts of the boat and its horrid sewer smell pierced a shard of terror right into his heart that he couldn't properly express. Had Georgie really been telling him the truth, or was yesterday just a series of coincidences mixing with childhood fantasy? At one point his gaze shifted to give a fleeting glance to the sewer grate which lurched and uneasy sickness in his gut that felt real and nauseating. He had never realized just how wide those gaps really were, and the idea of seeing gloved hands stretching out, or hearing cackles of unnerving glee ricocheting from the walls inside stirred up great feelings of dread within him. He flinched when Georgie touched his arm.

"Where are we going, Bill?"

His brother blinked back to reality and cleared his thoughts as they held hands.

"To…the diner." He seemed to think about it for a moment before smiling down to his sibling. Seeing a spark of joy igniting in the small child's eyes calmed the doubts skittering around in his stomach. "There, I'm g-gonna buy you the biggest sundae." He too was smiling now as he watched his brother gasp and hop in glee before he tried to skip ahead despite the grip they shared. Bill only had a few dollars to his name, but Georgie honestly deserved to be treated like a king after yesterday. He picked up his pace, chuckling under his breath while trying to keep up.

"Are you gonna get a ginger beer, Bill?" Georgie panted as he looked back. Root beer was for kids; ginger beer was like the hard stuff for the big boys. Georgie tried it once when he spent the Fourth of July with Bill and his friends, where the boys had spent the evening trying to shoot off small firecrackers down by the Barrens when they weren't tossing those little snappers at each other. One of the older boys - a foul mouth with huge glasses - raised a six pack of the stuff and claimed it was the real deal. Georgie took a sip from his brother's and made a face at the sharp rooty taste.

Behind him, Bill shook his head and held his hand tighter.

"Nah. Maybe a float." He narrowed his gaze, curious, when Georgie seemed to stiffen up.

Their route was fortunately a short one. If he had his trusty Silver, Bill would have burned rubber no later than five minutes. On foot, he could enjoy the changing of the leaves just a bit longer. With Georgie's insistence to splash in every puddle, it took the boys roughly twenty minutes before Georgie was charging into the world of old rock and the smell of grease while Bill held the door. Ron's Diner was a staple of Derry culture, heralding from notoriety when the owners refused to renovate beyond the era of 1950's couture when the rest of the town moved towards the future. The same red stools lined the soda bar with the same old patches to cover the splitting leather, with the same old jukebox in the corner underneath the Elvis plates. Georgie inspected every booth until he found his favorite by the wall of old newspaper clippings- the hot dates of proud Derry history.

Georgie kicked his legs and gripped the edge of his seat as he waited for his brother, though it took him a few seconds more to realize that he still had his raincoat hoodie hanging over his eyes. The little boy pawed at his heavy bangs, thinking of the sewer as the colors of red and white became almost overwhelming in the place. White walls, white dishes, red seats and ketchup bottles and doors...the young Denbrough was starting to miss his friend.

Pennywise only seemed to care about visiting when he was alone, such as at night when he'd come crawling out from under his bed like a giant frilled lizard. His visits were welcome but frustrating, as Georgie, in his young wisdom, felt that he had the full right to show off to the world that he had a tall clown as a best friend. He had settled on that idea more and more incessantly whenever he thought back on their first meeting, when he remembered the clown man saying that he was so lonely in the sewers...what kind of fella lived in the sewers? A sad one with no home, that's what. It was a personal quest of George Denbrough to bring a friend into his family, and that was noble enough for him. While he mourned at his table, Georgie couldn't keep his sorrows for longer when a huge boat of a sundae was set before him- bigger than his own head! And across from it sat quiet Bill, who smiled at him softly while gripping a soda float.

"I told them no nuts." Bill affirmed while nodding to the sundae. Georgie was more invested in the massive banana holding up small mountains of ice cream and heavy whipping. The little boy chuckled while digging in.

"You're a nut."

Bill furrowed his brows and wheezed, glancing around to ensure that there weren't any adults in their immediate range before he leaned in and whispered with a wry grin.

"Y-yeah well, you're a n...n-nutsack." He grinned as Georgie made a silent gasp, and the two boys both burst out into a fit of snickering over their food. He held a finger up to his lips when he saw Georgie intending to parrot it back, glad to see the little one following his lead in eating dessert. He looked around the diner while listening to his brother chopping at a banana, which, for reasons he couldn't explain, reminded him of the sounds of teeth gnashing on something squishy. Bill was almost squinting as his thoughts strayed again, remembering a fairly distant news story of a body being found by the Kissing Bridge. Police reported that chunks of flesh were ripped straight out of the poor bastard's neck and chest, and a later report identified the victim as Joe Pierce, a young man of almost-seventeen who had run away from home after a spat with his father. He remembered their father forbidding them to go near that place until eventually relenting a few months later.

Derry was a safe town. There were wild dogs and cougars and the scarce bear, but no monsters nor madmen lurking about. That's what the adults always insisted. Bill swallowed heavily and looked across the table, realizingin that moment why he was thinking those terrible thoughts when he remembered that Georgie was still wearing his slicker.

"Georgie…" He started, "P-please don't tell m...mom and d-dad. About what you told me." He saw the hurt in his little brother's eyes, but it was for his own good. Georgie dropped his spoon and whined.

"But it's true! You gotta believe me. You do...don't you Billy?"

He crossed his arms and waited, which was a foolproof plan for him. No adult in his experience could deny a disappointed young man in such a pose; it was a dangerous game of stepping on a snake. He watched Bill averting his gaze to instead look back at the melting ice cream bobbing in frothy soda.

"Georgie, I…" his jaw danced a bit while he tried to find his words. He could accept losing a sailboat or running into a new neighbor, but a grown man dressed as a clown that could sweet-talk information out of a child was a bit too much. Rightly so, he decided not to feed into it much more. "I...gotta use the b-bathroom." He pushed himself out of his seat and gave Georgie an apologetic look before he briskly walked away.

Even though there were a handful of other patrons in the space, the youngest Denbrough suddenly felt quite alone. He stared at the seat across from him with a forlorn gaze before he deflated back against his own. He whimpered softly and rubbed at his eyes; he was so frustrated. If Billy couldn't believe him, then who would?

Georgie sniffled and tried to fight back the tears, his gaze hazy through the glassy film threatening to spill out. After blinking furiously, he noticed that the cherry capping his sundae was now gone.

There was also a wet crunch right beside him.

Tensely, he looked up and gasped. Pennywise halted in his chewing, though the stem of the small fruit was humorously poking out from under his buck teeth. He was looking ahead though his gentle blue eye rolled in its socket to regard the child in his peripherals. His red lips stretched into a delighted grin while he cackled softly.

"You're here!" Georgie gasped, but looked around the diner. Nobody seemed to pay him any mind, as they were lost in their own meals and conversations. Even the waitress manning the register didn't seem to notice the white clown in the room, and a simple glance up would have had her looking directly in the danger zone. An old man even shuffled by them en route to the restroom, and not once did he stop to oggle at the freak in carnie clothes sitting next to a little boy. The space felt so surreal to Georgie's mind.

"...why can't anyone see you?" He asked, looking back up at the clown with a baffled face. Pennywise just chuckled and sucked down the stem. As he chewed it to a sweetened pulp, he smiled down at the child.

"Only you can see me, Georgie." The clown purred.

"I can?" Georgie's eyes widened.

Pennywise nodded, one eye on him and the other slowly rolling off to regard the waitress. "You can. And you want to know why, Georgie?" The boy nodded, entranced. Pennywise giggled and poked at his nose.

"Because you are special."

Georgie blinked, but he started to smile and giggle with his eyes almost scrunched closed. Pennywise laughed too, louder and rowdier as his hidden bells began to jingle. Georgie again shot a fleeting glance around the room, still confused as to why nobody was looking their way. He wasn't even getting a scolding look being thrown his way for being so loud.

"The don't hear me either?" He asked before leaning onto the tabletop and barking out a louder laugh. Not even a twitch. It was so strange and almost creepy. Behind him, the clown cooed.

"Not while I am around. I have many tricks up my sleeves." He popped the frills on his wrists just in time when Georgie glanced back at him.

"Like...magic tricks?"

Georgie was somewhat used to the strange antics of the clown, after having witnessed inconceivable feats of flexibility and awareness to things even he couldn't see or hear. Pennywise was smiling wider at the question, the swells of his cheeks pairing rather well with his flashing teeth; he looked uncanny to a cartoon rabbit.

"Sure. Like magic tricks." He ruffled Georgie's hair while his rogue eye was now peering at the neglected sundae. Georgie was more than happy to push it towards him. The boy watched him eat, curious.

"So...do you really live in the sewer?"

Pennywise paused again with a mouthful of ice cream. Shockingly, he swallowed it all in one gulp and showed no signs of a brain freeze while licking at his teeth.

"A-ha! Yes!...No…" he huffed and shook his head, jingling his bells again. "I told you, my circus was swept away...I live in a nice, cozy stage coach, surrounded by all my animal friends." He laughed softly, freezing up completely while waiting for an answer. Georgie hummed but felt his cheeks heating up as their shared gaze lingered.

"Well, it's sunny now, so maybe you can come out and move your home back." He offered. Georgie was by no means implying that the visitations stopped. Not at all. He just felt terrible that such a neat magic man had to live in a literal dump. Georgie didn't feel as terrible then as he did now, watching the clown's smile fall into a heavy frown. Pennywise chewed on his lip while playing with his hands.

"Oh...do you want me to go away, Georgie?" He sniffled.

The child froze up.

"No!"

He reached out, frantic, to tug the frilly sleeves away from the dramatic boo-hoo's coming from the clown's face. He never realized how big Pennywise's gloves were until his own fingers were trying to pry them away. The more he tried to wrestle away the overblown lurching and ridiculous sounding sobs, the more worked up he himself came. Something about seeing a sad clown was just pitiful and...heartbreaking.

"No, please! Don't go away, I'll miss you…" he was almost driven to tears himself as he began to sniffle. It was a miserable thought for a child to endure, feeling alone and friendless. His big brother was his best friend, and there were a few kids at school he played with, but Georgie didn't have many at his young age. Envisioning days of walking past the sewer grate or looking under his bed to see nothing but darkness was a fear he didn't want to face. Georgie leaned into the large gloves, sniffling softly in his misery.

He felt the warm hands shifting beneath his fists, bringing them down but he was too distraught to really notice.

"Don't leave," he pleaded again, this time choking from real tears. "B-Billy doesn't believe me and m-mom and dad would be so ma-aad if they found out and I don't want you to gooooooo…" He could feel his throat tightening in and his nose building with pressure from the impending snot he would have to suck back, but he didn't care.

Something firm pressed against his nose. He swallowed heavily and snorted, opening his stinging eyes; his reflection stared back in jarring red. Georgie flinched back, staring dumbly at the balloon in front of his face. Then he saw another one, hovering harmlessly off to the side. It was another balloon, flanked by another and then another above and one below...he didn't have to move much to realize that the whole diner was being infested by them. They all floated aimlessly in lazy fashion while bumping into each other during their migration to the top. The shift allowed him to witness that the rest of the people inside were completely frozen- even the smoke from food.

Georgie didn't know what to think of it all. He rubbed at his eyes and blinked and looked again, as if that would tweak things back to reality. The balloons were still there, as were the living statues stuck in the daily mundane. The waitress was stuck pouring frozen coffee into another woman's cup, a young man ceased in mid-flip of a coin for the right jukebox song he was debating on...a hand was pressed on the restroom door as it had just begun its path to open, and Georgie recognized the sleeve to be that of his brother. He sat back in his chair, looking up at a balloon that was directly above him.

Stupefied, he shyly reached out to push it. The imprint of his thumb dented its surface as though the object had been made of a fine jelly, and he watched it rippling in slow motion before it popped instantly. He had wrenched his eyes shut in preparation for the gunshot bang, but Georgie reeled, baffled, when instead he heard a silly honking noise.

It was so ridiculous sounding that he forgot about his tears to instead poke another one. That balloon swelled up to an incredible plumpness before it too burst to the sound of a duck quacking. Georgie was so confused that he couldn't help but snort and choke on a giggle. As he poked more of the balloons, the more he started to laugh at all the strange and silly noises they made; he was sobbing with laughter when one made a foghorn noise.

He was reeled over in his spot, wheezing for breath and red in the face from laughing too hard. In his messy vision, he saw the other balloons popping softly like bubbles while others just seemed to fade away. By the time he pushed himself back up and rubbed at his eyes, his head was spinning heavily. His stinging vision slowly moved back into focus, and he discovered that Pennywise was watching him with a quiet and distant gaze.

"You are full of tricks!" The child exclaimed and the clown smiled. He stretched out his arms and dove in for a small tackle of a hug, where he was happy to rub his face against the warm lacy fabric that smelled faintly of the circus. A comforted exhale left him as the hug was returned quite pleasantly. "...I'm sorry, I don't want you to go."

"I'll stay for as long as I need to." came the soft rumble that sounded like a promise. Georgie nodded while he watched the frozen restaurant. He couldn't put his mind to guessing what the actual secret to the trick was.

"Bill doesn't believe in you." From that phrasing, it made the magical clown sound less of a corporal being and more of a childish figment- a desire for expression and adventure. But it was true, and he could hear the soft groan of sadness pushing down onto the figure he was embracing. It was a heavy exhale, though a soft one.

"He is wise, what a wise boy. Yes, yes...but he doesn't believe like you do, Georgie." Pennywise mumbled while looking beyond the table towards the bathroom door. "He sees the world as humans always do. He fears monsters he cannot see." He was stiffening up again, which startled and troubled the young child. Georgie made a face as he thought about it.

"Did he use to?" Bill had been young like him once, and Pennywise looked quite old. He was expecting a nod or a jingle, maybe a soft laugh. When the clown refused to budge, Georgie let him go and looked at him helplessly. He couldn't fathom what kid in town wouldn't want to be friends with a magical clown who could make balloons quack and time stop. Now that he thought about it, maybe Bill did have a point…

Awkwardly, Georgie looked at the neglected float. The hairs on the back of his neck began to prickle up as reality stuck him: there were living people around him that were dead frozen. But he shook his head, defiant. He took a deep breath and tightened his brows, daring himself to look at the space again.

"Why aren't they moving?" He asked, tense. He heard the bells rustling beside him.

"Ah? Ah." Slowly, the world began to shift back to normalcy, from stiffness to slow motion to all of the sudden there were sounds and smells exploding back into reality. Georgie blinked and looked all over, then to his sundae which was starting to melt again. Pennywise was looming over it, sheepish. "...did you like the balloons?"

Georgie gave him a funny look for a moment, but his pout turned to a big smile as he caught on. Did the clown just lose focus over trying to cheer him up? Georgie thought so, and he thought it was really strange but kinda sweet- a moment of peace to share between a boy and his special friend. He was reminded of their first meeting at the sewer, seeing those hopeful blue eyes and their big puppy shine, and he remembered snickering quietly into the night while eating pancakes and talking about silly and equally strange things. His mood swung back from unsettled to delighted, proud to have such a neat not-stranger with so many tricks.

Georgie opened his mouth, ready to tease...but he took his turn to freeze when Bill returned to his seat. He watched his brother immediately look confused at the sundae's new location. The two Denbroughs shared a weird gaze before the eldest spoke.

"Do you not want your sundae?"

Georgie stumbled over his words as he reached for it, hoping to not knock into Pennywise along the way...but his elbow struck nothing but pure air. He felt cold weight tumbling into his stomach as he fumbled to make sense of the nothingness that was once again sharing his bench in the booth.

"G-Georgie?"


End file.
